Dead Man Walking
by Asuke23x
Summary: The year is 1910,and Zoro works at the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense in central London.He is a loner and prefers it that way until he is paired up with the most unlikely of people. Soon he is dragged into a world were even the paranormal and the supernatural seem like childs play. Can Zoro over come the obstacles in his way? Or will he fall? Yaoi. AU. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: me own nada thing!

Okay, okay, okay. So I KNOW that starting another fanfic is a horrible idea when I've got other ones that I should be working on, and I KNOW that I will regret it, but I just gotta post this new story idea! XP PLEASE review and let me know what you all think! Aye or nay?!

Dead Man Walking

Chapter One

It rained all that week, as it always does when Spring comes around. The water poured off the gutters of the buildings, making mini waterfalls in front of every doorway. The sky was dark gray with clouds, and the bitting wind chilled one to the bone, giving the impression that the spring season had far yet to come.

Roronoa Zoro huffed with irritation as he stepped under a said waterfall to enter the large marble building in front of him. The top hat on his head deflected most of the rain, but he growled as some made its way under his coat collar, and down his back.

Shaking the cold drops further down his back, he handed his drenched black over coat and top hat to an awaiting butler, then made his way to his employer's office.

Chattering people greeted him with nods, while others called out "hello" and "Good morning". Zoro returned the greetings appropriately, and then continued on his way.

The young swordsman knocked politely on the office door and waited until given permission to enter. On the outside he looked the perfect picture of proprietary, but on the inside he was a raging fire, desperate to bust out. He tucked a long strand of layered green hair behind his triple pierced ear, and scowled. Damn Garp to hell!

Zoro was, and had always been, a man of action. He hated to beat around the bush, and as he waited for the director's secretary to grant him entrance, he thought for the millionth time that the director was a jackass for making him wait.

A moment or two later he heard the distinctive sound of glass breaking, and the thud of a body collapsing against the heavy oak door. He rushed forward and shouldered the door, his weapon drawn.

Inside the spacious room was a small library, and an oak desk that usually had a gruff old man sitting behind it, munching away on cookies. But today, the old man was being pinned by the throat, the bodies of two unconsious guards lay still on the floor.

The green haired young man sucked in a startled breath. An old man, probably older then Garp, stood before the director, his foot against the other man's throat.

" Now," the man sneered, his long gray hair was tied back in a ponytail by a lether strap, but strands of it escaped, giving the geezer a wild look, "Why the hell am I here, Garp? I thought I was clear I was to be left alone!"

Zoro was always the 'slice first, ask questions later' kind of guy, so without a second thought, he surgered forward toward the director.

Garp held up a hand toward him, causing Zoro to stop in confusion. The burly old man looked at the man infront of him until the old man shifted his foot off of Garp's throat, and stepped back a pace or two from the desk.

The director rubbed a large hand over the red compression on his wind pipe, giving the older man murderous looks.

"We need your help, Mr. Prince, and we need it badly. All over England there have been reports and incidents of paranormal and the supernatural. You are our greatest asset."

Zoro was in shock. In all his years at the bureau, never had he heard Director Monkey D. Garp speak like that to anyone. Just who was this Mr. Prince?

The wizened old man just scoffed and jammed a cigarette between his lips with long, weathered fingers.

"Those days are over, Garp. You're father and this shitty agency knew that the day they first back stabbed me. So, you cuffed me and gagged me to bring me all the way down here to ask me to help you? Well, SIR," the gray haired man sneered again, adding his clear disdain, "My answer is no. Though, I guess that hardly matters, doesn't it, because whether my answer to your request is yes or no, you plan on trying to keep me here against my will?"

Zoro was behind the oldest man, and could only see his slender back and long legs, but he could hear the underlying hate in the words the stranger spoke to the director. He watched Garp's face darken in anger and, unexpectedly, stayed quiet.

After a moment, the old stranger turned his upper body toward Zoro. He tensed as his emerald green eye met bright blue. The man infront of him raised his... curly brow? in question.

He took a long dragg from the cigarette in between his lips and Zoro saw in his eye the flash of some type of emotion, but then it was gone.

The old man fixed the hair over his right eye in a reflex it seemed, and turned back towards Garp.

"Alright," he caved, with regret heavy in his voice. "But it's the same deal we had before. If I find the bastard, I get to kill him. If you or your people get in my way again, Garp, I WILL cut them down. If you go behind my back again, I will distroy this entire fucking agency, and raze it to the ground."

With that said, the stranger, Mr. Prince, stalked out of the room, slamming the heavy door behind him.

Zoro watched him go, confused, then turned back to Garp's smiling face.

"Who, exactly, was that?" He asked the director.

"That," Garp said munching on a cookie that had appeared in his hands, "is your new partner, Mr. Roronoa."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

'I can't believe this!' Zoro thought as he punched sand bag infront of him. A new partner? He didn't need a new partner! They always got in his way, and got themselves killed.

The director rolled his eyes and munched on his cookie when Zoro said as much.

"No, Roronoa," he mumbled between munches, "YOU leave them to fend for themselves, and THEN they die. You need to work on your teamwork. Luffy isn't the only compatable partner her at the bureau. "

This time it was Zoro who rolled his eye, and huffed, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"Che. That isn't my problem. I warn them and offer for them to back out, don't I? Can't help they couldn't find their way out of a paper bag."  
"Hmph! Speak for yourself, greenie." Garp barked as he grabbed another cookie.

Zoro glared at the old man across from him and then stormed out of the office,leaving Garp's hardy chuckles behind him.

Now he was in the bureau's gym, punching away at a sand bag, waiting eagerly for his next assignment.

"What's got your trousers in a twist, Mr. Roronoa?" A high voice asked behind him.

"Quiet, Long Nose, you're ruining my concentration," snapped Zoro.

Ussop Sogeking laughed, and walked into Zoro's sight. The coffe colored skin of Ussop shone, as well as his slicked back, long black hair that was usually in a fuzzy pony tail.

"Got a date with Miss Sweet?" He teased, and took a second to snap the suspenders Ussop was wearing under his dark coat.

The sniper slapped Zoro's hands away.

"And what if a I do?" The skinny man said, an unusual note of challenge in his high voice.

"Well, it's pissing rain out there, so be careful that she doesn't catch sick," he warned, and went back to punching the bag.

Ussop wailed that "of course I knew it was raining! What kind of man do you think I am if I don't have a back up plan?!" And "what kind of man do you think I am if you think I would put Miss Kaya's life in jeopardy! ", but Zoro was back to his own thoughts. He heard his friend's voice say something else about a packet, then the door to the gym was closed.

The young investigator worked out until a sheen of sweat formed over his skin, and had broken the sand bag in two. After he was done, he pulled his long hair back from his sweaty forehead, slipped on his shirt, and pulled up the suspenders dangling by his knees over his shoulders.

His booted foot kicked something weighty as he went to go out the door, and Zoro looked down to find a leather folder tied closed with a cord of twine. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

"Che," he muttered, and tucked the folder under his arm. He hailed the butler to quickly bring his hat and coat, and skirted into the street avoiding anyone and everyone.

Finally he made it to his home behind his foster father's dojo. Today was Sunday, his day off, and he planned on getting shit faced drunk. He threw his coat and hat on the coat rack by the door, and kicked off his constricting shoes, leaving them by the door.

He padded barefoot across the carpeted floor silently to the kitchen to get his favorite booze, smiling as he smelt a delicious aroma.

He paused before he opened the door to kitchen, hearing Nami giggle. Then he heard a deep voice laughing as well.

He shoved open the door to find Nami sitting at the granite cooking island, and, to his dismay, the gray haired geezer from earlier.

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, narrowing his good eye at the old man.

"Zoro," Nami chided, "This is Mr. Sanji Prince. He's the new cook you hired, remember? "

Zoro stopped at this. Cook? What? He looked over at the old man and saw a look of warning.

"Hn. Oh, yes. Well, Nami, you can leave now. I need to talk with Mr. Prince." He dismissed his maid rather curtly.

Once the door swung shut, Zoro stepped up close to the old man.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Mr. Prince, but I can assure you that the ending will not be pleasant unless you explain just what the hell you are doing in my home, and how you even knew where I live!" He demanded in a heated whisper.

Mr. Prince scoffed. "I'm not intimidated by you, little man." He said, crossing his ankles as he leaned back from Zoro against the counter. "We are partners now, are we not? And as to how I knew where you live... Ussop told me."

"That long nosed bastard!"

Mr. Prince laughed, and turned around with a plate and a a bottle wrapped in brown paper. "Here," he said, placing it on the table.

Zoro eyed the plate, and the bottle.

Sighing, Mr. Prince sat down in the seat next to plate and popped one of the rice balls of rice in his mouth and took a swig from the bottle. "I didn't poison you, marimo." he smirked. "I actually AM a cook,a chef actually, but it doesn't matter. Just eat."

Zoro cautiously sat down and reached for the food, now that he knew it was safe to eat. He had learned the hard way last time he ate food without testing to see if it was safe. "You never change..." he thought he heard the old man add in a murmur so low, Zoro was sure it was just his imagination.

The green haired man hummed in appreciation at the food. "What is this?" he asked around the food in his cheeks. He swore this stuff tasted familiar...

"Onigiri," the geezer responded, "It's a typical, and very popular food in Japan. And the drink in the bottle is sake, Japanese alcohol. It's very strong, so don't go drinking it all at once. It very old, so it's extremely potent."

Zoro was sniffing the lip of the bottle when the other man said that, so he took a big gulp like a petulant child. He immediately coughed, sputtering as the booze stung the back of his throat.

"Mary, mother of God!" He exclaimed, " That is some strong booze!"

"I DID warn you," the cook chided as he stood up, and turned toward the dishes in the sink.

Zoro took this opportunity to study his new partner. He sighed mentally, accepting this fact. He noticed that the suit that Mr. Prince wore was skillfully tailored, his long legs going on forever and a day. He admitted that Mr. Prince had a very nice figure and body for an older man, but his spiritual energy was weaker then all of his past partners combined.

He scoffed softly under the clatter of the dishes. The old fart wouldn't last long, no matter what his physical health was. Zoro pushed his seat back, holding the neck of the sake bottle.

"I'm going to my room. Thanks for the booze," then he headed up stairs, convinced that this partnership wouldn't last long.

He took the stairs 2 at a time, and walked past a door that was open. He peered in, surprised that Nami was actually cleaning, but scowled in anger. There was a trunk on the small bed in the small room. Zoro knew that it was that bastard cook's trunk. What a presumptuous ass, assuming that he could stay here!

Zoro stomped into the room, preparing to toss the trunk down the stairs, when he noticed all the stickers cracking, and fading on the leather. There must've been hundreds of stickers scattered over the thick, worn leather. The stickers were ones used in shipping and receiving luggage across different countries.

The young swordsman ran his fingers over the frayed edges of the passport stickers in awe. This Mr. Prince had been to places Zoro had only read about in stories, places of adventure and excitment.

"You know it's rude to be nosey," a gravelly voice said in anger.

Zoro startled alittle, but turned toward Mr. Prince with a scowl on his face.

"And it's also rude to let yourself into a house uninvited and assume you're staying there," he shot back.

Mr. Prince shrugged and tapped the toe of his right shoe against the floor softly.

"I don't want to be here either, Mr. Roronoa, but the director is insistant on this matter. He thinks that I will be able to teach you something."

Zoro looked at the gray haired geezer with a skeptical eye. Then Mr. Prince snapped his fingers.

"Oh, yes, there is something I've been tasked to give you," the old man went over to his trunk and clicked open the lock with aa few deft movements.

The lid popped open, and Mr. Prince reached in. Zori watched as he pulled out a long black cloth and held it with reverence, looking at it with a expression Zoro had never seen on anyone before.

"Here," he said shakily, holding out the long object toward him. Zoro's pulse quickened as he pulled back the black velvet.

He sucked in a breath at the beauty of the white katana infront of him.

"It's name is-"

"Wado Ichimonji," he breathed.

"You use the three sword style, so I thought that you might want it,"

"How much?" He asked, willing to pay any price.

Mr. Prince looked at him confused. " It's a gift for you... from your grandfather."

Zoro was the one confused now. "My grandfather?"

"Yes. When I saw your green hair, I knew you were the kin of the Demon Hunter." He smiled sadly. "I've been wandering around with this katana for years, waiting to full fill your grandfathers dying wish. We were great freinds your granddad and I."

Zoro was hearing about this for the first time. He felt a mix of anger and happiness at hearing the news Mr. Prince gave him.

"Did you know anyone else in my family?" He asked quietly, his emotions threatening to come out of him.

"No, just your grand father. He died along time before you were born, so I had no idea where you were or even who you were. I'm lucky that fate had brought us together before I die."

The young man swallowed as he carefully took the katana. It was perfect in every way. He attached it to his hip, liking the feel to it.

'This is fantastic! ' he thought. Wado Ichimonji was one od the 21 O Wazamono grade slayer swords; a weapon that could utilize it's users spirit energy amd help increase it or fight with it in battle. It was one of the few out there and he remembered reading about it in school.

"Hey, wasn't this missing over a century ago? I thought that the last known person to have it was some kind of pirate."

Mr. Prince closed his trunk lid with a snap. "Well, apparently not. Get out of here, I'm tired," he comanded of Zoro.

The younger man clutched the sword around it's scabbard protectively, but scowled as he left the room.

"Shitty old man," he grumbled as he went to his room, and gently placed the third sword on the wall with the two others he had acquired over the long years of his training.

It hung nicley over his two other swords, Sandai Kitetsu, and Shusui. He smiled like a loon as he beamed at his now full collection. He had another katana, one he missed terribly, but that sword had broken in his last assignment and now rested in a case at the bureau for the scientists to study.

Zoro leaned back on his bed, still admiring the beautiful white sword as he drifted off to sleep. Maybe the old geezer wasn't so bad after all...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I ownth nothing.

poyochin: Haha! That you so much! :) I got the idea for this story one night in bed. I actaully had it alot different at first, but once I had gotten halfway through the chapter I was like shmeh. This is so so. Soooo, then I did this instead! I hope you like this next chapter!

Guest: its the Victorian era silly! EVERYBODY and their brother had long hair back then. Haha. Actually there was plenty of short haired people, but when I was googling Zoro x Sanji photos for the book cover, I saw the one I chose and was immediately like "sweet Jesus! Zoro looks fucking sexy with hair like that!" And then I was lost. I know that isn't the most persuasive argument i've ever made, but sadly it's the truth. Xp I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Thanks for your support! :3

This chapter is dedicated to my wonder, amazing, totally cool, super great beta reader opens up 4 nobody! Thanks so much for your amazing incite and awesome editing!

* * *

Dead Man Walking

Chapter Two

When Zoro woke up the next morning, he was surprisingly well rested. He had no weird dreams, so he hadn't woken up to himself yelling at the crack of dawn; for that he was very grateful. He did have an annoying tendency to do that, but then he did have a rather stressful job so maybe it was to be expected.

He stretched out in his bed, raising his arms high above his head, causing his spine to crack out the fluid in his joints. Then, he sat up, running his fingers through his long green hair, and yawned pleasantly.

It took him a little while to get ready; brushing out his bed head was rather difficult. After he finished knotting the dark green tie around his throat, and tucked the collar down, he made his way down stairs to kitchen.

A pleasant tune floated up the stairs as he silently walked down. He paused outside the door to the kitchen and looked in through the crack to see Mr. Prince moving gracefully through the room, humming and occasionally singing a line to the song he was apparently thinking of.

" _Binkusu no sake wo, todoke ni yuku yoWarera kaizoku, umi wattekuNami wo makura ni, negura wa fune yoHo ni hata ni ketateru wa dokuro..._ "* the cook sang softly and thereafter transitioned back to humming.

Zoro listened to Mr. Prince's baritone voice, deciding that he liked it; it was a sound he could appreciate. He must've made some sort of noise because the cook tensed up, and fell silent as waiting for another sound to come.

Zoro quietly backed up and purposely hit a squeaky spot on the floor before shoving the kitchen door open. He placed the half empty bottle of sake on the table with a bang.

The cook looked at him with that weird fucking curly eyebrow raised.

"What?!" he asked defensively.

"Nothing," the old geezer said nonchalantly, and turned back to his cooking. "I was just not expecting you to only drink half of it."

"I might not be a gentleman, wonder brow, but I'm not a drunkard! I know my limits! " Zoro scoffed.

Mr. Prince barked a laugh, shaking his head of long hair. "Well, a gentleman you are not, that's for sure," he laughed again, and placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of his partner.

"Hurry up and eat, Garp wants us for an assignment, marimo."

"Who the fuck are you calling a marimo?" Zoro grumbled, and shoveled the oatmeal into his mouth.

"You, duh! There's no one else here I could be talking to," Mr. Prince said, then turned away frowning.

Zoro watched him scrub the already spotless counters and mumble under his breath. Zoro rolled his good eye, and ate the entirety of the oatmeal. When the young swordsman was done, he slammed his bowl down and stood. Mr. Prince looked up in disapproval of the abuse of the china.

"Alright, let me grab my swords, and we can go," he said, and raced up stairs, eager to show off his new weapon.

When he returned, Mr. Prince was waiting for him by the door. He remained there up until Zoro was ready as well, he then opened the door and strode out.

Zoro couldn't help but admire the way Mr. Prince's long legs moved as he walked, the way that the man smoked a cigarette was down right alluring.

He shook his head. Where the hell had that thought come from? The dude was at least forty years Zoro's senior. Not to mention a man. That was just gross. Ugh, best to ignore that whole line of thought.

Zoro scrunched his nose, and followed Mr. Prince down the street. He always hated to walk to work. The streets were constantly changing places on him, but the gray haired geezer had no problem finding his way around. Confident bastard.

Mr. Prince was not much of a talker, and neither was Zoro, so they walked in an awkward silence together until they reached headquarters.

The door was held open for them, and Zoro handed the butler his coat and hat. The somber man waited utill he was sure that Mr. Prince would not hand over his coat, and then led them to Garp's office.

They took a few steps in, and waited as Garp polished off a whole ham, clean to the bone, with vigor. The old man smacked his lips and and belched loudly. Then he promptly fell asleep.

"Ehem," Zoro coughed loudly.

The noise seemed to startle the director awake.

"Oh! Erm... well, good thing you are early today, Mr. Roronoa," the old geezer began, picking a booger from his nose and flicking it toward Mr. Prince. Said man dodged it with ease, and his face remained unchanged, though he pointedly refused to look at the director.

"There have been a series of compliants in the downtown area. At the Royal Theater, to be exact. Apparently, there have been incidents of rigging braking at ill opportune moments, fires catching spontaneously, even ghostly figures seen on the stage of actors long passed. There has been a report of two deaths and seven injuries in the past week."

Zoro nodded. "Alright, sir, we'll look into it," he said, then added in his head, 'It will probably only be me coming back to report, though. That old geezer is never going to be able to keep up with me.'

Garp nodded with a yawn. "Good. Now, Mr. Prince," he said, adressing the other old man directly, "I need you to look into something else for me too. It's about... You-Know-Who."  
Then Garp handed the other man a small envelope, stamped with a red seal.

Mr. Prince reluctantly took it, and placed it in his pocket. Garp dismissed them, and Zoro couldn't help but ask.

"What's the extra job?"

"Che. That's way above a little marimo's pay grade," he deflected.

Zoro scowled at him. "What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?"

Mr. Prince flicked the ash off of his new cigarette before answering. "It means that you are not in the need to know; that it's classified information."

"Classified?!" Zoro said insulted, as he snatched his coat from the butler, "I'm a fucking senior member! What the hell do you mean 'Classified'?"

The old geezer held the door open for a group of ladies, smiling a pervy smile, before passing through himself.

He shrugged as they made their way down the now bustling street. "Well, it's a case that is extremely sensitive. Not many know about it. In fact, I probably know more then anyone alive right now, and thats not much. Don't worry, Mr. Roronoa, I'm sure you'll know soon enough," his tone was rather ominous in a way that left no way to argue, but still an annoying need to know what the hell was going on. Damn cryptic old jerk.

With that, the rest of the walk to the theater was silent. Zoro couldn't help but dwell on what the old man said. Why was he being kept in the dark? Were the other's being restricted as well? If he was going to find out anyway, why not let the cat out of the bag now?

Eventually, they came to the place Garp had sent them.

"The Royal Theater," Zoro scoffed, trying to act unimpressed by the sheer height of the theater, let alone its renowned design.

He glanced over to find the gray haired man fondly viewing the building. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before composing himself, and turned to Zoro.

"Shall we go in?"

Zoro nodded and lead the way in. Inside, the ornate building was just as fancy as the exterior. Zoro appreciated the wonderful architecture and beautiful guilding along the ceiling.

The partners introduced themselves at the door and were promptly showed to the back of the stage.

"The owner will be with you in a moment, I'm sure-"

"SANJI-SAN?! Yo ho hoooo! Is that really you?" a high voice exclaimed from behind them.

They turned and Zoro just managed to see a black and orange blur hurl itself toward Mr. Prince. He went to draw his sword when he heard laughing. Real, honest to God laughter, from the stoic face of Mr. Prince.

"Brook!" he cried, clutching the taller man in a tight hug.

Then he pulled himself back, smiling broadly, and started to talk animatedly to the tall black man in Japanese. The other man talked back just as rapidly.

Shit, Japanese was Zoro's native tongue, but he couldn't understand them, they were talking so fast. They made it all sound like gibberish.

"Oh, Sanji-san! How good it is to see you again!" the tall man, Brook, said happily, switching back to English.

Mr. Prince nodded joyfully. "Yes, Brook! It's very good to you again! It must have been thirty years since we last saw each other! Toulouse, right? I had no fucking idea you owned Franky and Robin's old theater now! Talk about a small miracle that I came today!"

Then, Mr. Prince stopped speaking abruptly. He turned Brook's attention toward Zoro, finally seeming to remember him.

"Mr. Roronoa, this Brook Skeller, owner of this theater and an old friend of mine. Brook," he said, a hint of warning in his voice, "This is Mr. Zoro Roronoa. He is an investigator of BPRD, I'm his temporary partner."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Zoro!" The man exclaimed, taking Zoro's hand and shaking it vigorously.

Brook was a tall, skinny man who had a rather distinctive face. He had a slight goatee on his chin and some wicked side burns. And his hair! Good God, it looked like he had been struck by lightning, it was so puffed out! He also wore shades over his eyes, even though he was indoors, which Zoro found odd, and on his forehead was a scar that slightly resembled a diagonal omega sign.

His height was staggering, probably nearing nine feet, and was dressed in formal attire, complete with top hat and cane. His clothes were that of a gentleman, consisting of a coat, top hat, and trousers which were black, while the inner linings of his coat were a yellow-orange. He had a blue cravat that was tied in between his coat and around his neck and he held a cane, the outer covering of which was purple. His light chocolate skin glowed, seeming a little unearthly to Zoro, but he chose to ignore it for now. He had a job to do, after all, but he couldn't help but think that the tall man looked too young to be more then thirty years old. And, yet, he must be if he and Mr. Prince were close enough friends to be on a first name basis.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said formally, bowing stiffly.

"Yo ho ho!" The man cheered.

"Now, Brook, tell me. What the hell has been going on?" Mr. Prince questioned.

"Well, Sanji, I've been seeing... ghosts!" he whispered to the old man, fearfully.

"Yes, we are aware of that, Mr. Skeller, but could you tell us exactly what kind of ghosts you are seeing?" Zoro asked, already annoyed with the man.

"Well... trapped spirits, Mr. Roronoa. I think that they are the spirits of the dead from the fire of forty years ago. They are always wailing about how terribly hot they are, and that they need to escape the flames..."

"Yep, that sounds like something a burn victim would say. Wait, you can hear them as well as see them?" he asked in disbelief. He had sensed the same, if not less, spiritual energy from the puffy haired man as he had with Mr. Prince.

"Yes," Brook nodded, "I was also able to speak to them. They said that the fire was no accident, and that they couldn't leave because the flames would burn them," the man sounded so sad as he continued, "I am so ashamed that I can do nothing to help them."

Zoro was a little taken back. Only those with strong spiritual energy and focus could talk to ghosts successfuly and still remain sane. He had absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"You say they said the flames burn?" Mr. Prince asked.

Brook nodded. "Does that mean something, Sanji-san?"

"Do you know where their bones are buried?" asked Zoro, catching Mr. Prince's train of thought.

Brook shook his head. "Their bones are buried in a community grave yard. The bodies were so charred that they couldn't even identify the victims. "

Zoro nodded in thought, but before he could collect those thoughts, he was knocked to the ground. He looked up in confusion, and found a young raven haired boy ontop of him.

"Zoro! Shishishi! You're here too?" Luffy laughed.

The young man shoved the teen off of him and got his feet.

"Damn it, Luffy! What the hell have I told you about doing that?!" He snapped, dusting off his suit.

The teen investigator just laughed, rocking back on his heels. "Ah, Zoro, do you have any meat? I'm starving!" he declared.

The green haired teen groaned, "No, Luffy, I do not have any meat."

The raven pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Awwww... well, you should," he mumbled bitterly at Zoro.

The green haired man huffed in annoyance, "Che, whatever, Luffy. Anyway, Mr. Skeller, do you think you show Mr. Prince and I-"

"And me!" Luffy shouted, bouncing up and down.

"Why are you even here?" Zoro asked, frustrated.

"'Cause Gramps told to get out of his hair," he replied simply, picking his nose with his pinky finger, then flicking it on the floor.

Zoro saw Mr. Prince cringe.

"Well, gentlemen, if you will kindly follow me, please..." Brook motioned with his cane, then expertly twirled it through his long fingers.

Zoro had to grab Luffy by the collar of his coat to keep him from bounding after the tall man as they followed him out a back exit and and into a small wooded area.

"Your hair is so cool~!" gushed Luffy, stars in eyes.

Brook laughed and thanked the teen, leading the way through the underbrush.

Zoro rolled his eye again.

"Hey, Zoro, is that a new sword?!" Luffy asked suddenly.

The green haired investigator puffed out his chest as he displayed the white katana to Luffy.

"Yep," was all he said, but he felt a happy bubble in his stomach as Luffy 'oohh'ed and 'ahhhhh'ed over it. A new sword was defiantly something he could get excited about.

"Awesome~!" the raven haired boy breathed in admiration. The sword was beautiful after all and it deserved it's rightful moment of awe, but Luffy, having a short attention span, was soon distracted by the unfamiliar presence of Mr. Prince. "Who's he?" he asked, eyeing the old geezer.

"I'm Mr. Sanji Prince," the said man replied, introducing himself, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. D."

"Shishishi! I like your eye brows, Sanji!" Luffy said happily. "Are you Zoro's partner?"

Zoro thought that Mr. Prince would be miffed or annoyed at the familiarity that Luffy used, but the old man just smiled, his teeth gleaming.

"Yes, Luffy, Mr. Roronoa and I are partners for the time being," Mr. Prince said, using Luffy's name as well.

Luffy gave a wide grin, "I hope you make it, all of Zoro's other partners died. But you seem pretty cool, so don't die, okay?"

"I'll do my best," Mr. Prince nodded, "And what, pray tell, happened to all the other partners?"

"They can't keep up, so Zoro lets them die," Luffy hummed.

"Wow, that very inconsiderate of him," Mr. Prince said, arching a swirly eyebrow.

"If they can't handle this job, they shouldn't show up," Zoro grumbled.

"That's something only an inconsiderate asshole would say," Mr. Prince said wisely.

"Che, what do you know?"

"I know that you should feel bad about causing the deaths of a bunch of weak people. You're supposed to protect the weak, idiot."

"Well, it's too late to be sorry now, they're already gone."

"They were some's family, just think about that, you murder."

"Stop trying to make me feel guilty! And I didn't kill them, so don't call me a murderer."

"Oh, no, you're not a murderer, you only stood idly by while your partners were killed."

"You fucking-" he was sick of this line of discussion, "Can we cut the crap and get a move on, already?" Zoro asked, exasperated. From now on he decided that he wouldn't contribute to the conversation even if asked.

"LUFFY!" Zoro heard a familiar voice call frantically.

He turned as his long nosed friend bounded over toward their small, and apparently growing, group.

"Damn it, Luffy, you can't just run off leaving me all alone! What if one of those ghosts were to get me?!" Usopp cried.

"Shishishi," laughed Luffy. "You're fine, Ussop, so what is there to worry about?"

The long nosed man sputtered until Zoro interrupted.

"Alright, already! Christ, is the queen going to join us as well?" the tone in Zoro's voice was dangerous, "Mr. Skeller, could you please proceed?" he asked, everyone fell silent.

The owner gave a 'yo ho hoo!', before proceeding, talking while he walked. "Well, forty years ago, this theater was subject to a horrendous fire. What caused it, though, remains a mystery to this day. From what I heard from the ghosts, the fire was intentional and it succeeded in killing over a dozen people."

Zoro looked at Mr. Prince. The man was smoking another cigarette, and the smoke curled around in lazy spirals over his head, but he could see that the old geezer was stiff as a corpse. No pun intended. (But I fully intended it! Xp)

"Is this the grave site?" he asked, bending down to inspect the ground beneath his feet when they had stopped at a small patch of earth several yards from the theater.

"Yes. The victim's families thought it best to bury them all together," answered Brook.

Zoro looked up at the grave stone, noting the long list of names engraved into the mossy marble.

He brushed the long hair back from his forehead as he stood, and looked toward his partner.

"What do you think, swirly brow?"

The old man scowled around his cigarette, and snapped, "Well, it's obvious what we are going to do first, shit head!"

Zoro cocked an eyebrow at him, and clutched the hilt of his newest sword. That bastard cook was starting to really piss him off.

"What's that?" asked Luffy, who was looking at Mr. Prince like the man was the best thing since cooked meat.

The old man stepped up to the grave and brushed away the lichen and the dirt from the stone. "We have to dig up the bones and burn them. It's the only way to help their souls find peace.

"BURN their BONES?!" shrieked Ussop fearfully, "Why should we do that? They died over forty years ago, and they were properly mourned, so I dont get why they are ghosts in the first place! And why are they acting up now? They were the victims, weren't they? They shouldn't be hurting people!"

Zoro watched as Mr. Prince snub out his cigarette on the damp trunk of a nearby tree before speaking.

"Because the killer was buried along with them, Mr. Sogeking. Can't you see the dark aura surrounding the site? And as to why they ae are acting up now? Well, there is something happening, something that is very dangerous and needs to be stopped-" Mr. Prince stopped himself short.

It was then that the screaming reached their ears.

* * *

*Its one of the stanzas to the Japanese version of Bink's Sake. If you want a pretty good English version, then go to YouTube and type in " english 'bink's sake' one piece". Its by shadowlink4321


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Thank you all for your reviews and support! :D

I love ya, my amazing beta! You da best!

* * *

Dead Man Walking

Chapter 3 

Zoro and the others stiffened. The sound of screaming was coming from theater, and a smell of smoke was carried on the breeze. Zoro immediately drew two of his katana before he, Brook, and Mr. Prince started sprinting toward the building.

"Ussop, Luffy," Zoro shouted, "if your gonna be here, then be useful! Start digging up those bones, got it?! This might get messy!" His feet moved like lightning, carrying him through the brush, after two others members of his group.

He made sure to stay behind Brook; not because he didn't want to get lost or anything, it was just to be polite! 'It's the man's theater after all, so he would know the best route to take,' the swordsman told himself as he kept a careful eye on the tall man ahead of him.

They burst through the back door, as the sound of the actors and actresses' screams filled the building with an all too human note of terror.

Steeling himself, Zoro took a deep breath and channeled his spiritual energy into his katana; prepared for the fight he knew was coming.

"Mr. Skeller, Mr. Prince, it's best if you stay back!" he warned the two older men, as he tied his hair deftly out of his face, before placing his third katana into his mouth. He was ready for anything.

"Not on your life!" Mr. Prince laughed loudly, his voice bubbling in excitement.

"Yo ho! That's right, Zoro-san! It's been too long since Sanji-san and I have had a good skirmish!" Mr. Skeller cheered in agreement, pulling a blade from the end of his cane.

Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Did these two think this was a damn game?! They could get killed! He could handle this on his own; he didn't need two old men to get in the way and he didn't want to have to clean them up when this was all over.

"Fine, you morons, but don't blame me if you get killed!" he shouted around his katana with perfect clarity. It was a skill he had long ago perfected after many annoying miscommunications. Not many could say they could talk around something that thick. Then again...

He shifted his focus from the two suicide idiots to the apparitions before him, and raised his swords in invitation.

"Come on at me, you bastards!" he jeered, taunting the the three nearest spirits.

Zoro had fought apparitions on almost all levels- one wouldn't believe the amount of spirits that London alone carried in her soot filled gut- so, he had experience with all sorts of the bothersome creatures, large and small.

Level 4 apparitions were not ghosts, but rather the energy and habits of spirits remaining in specific areas. Hearing footsteps in hallways, voices in specific rooms and areas, or hearing crying, screaming, or other occurrences were common examples of a level 4. They were like an echo of something that once was.

Hauntings were caused by the energy from people bound to a specific place that goes on repeating forever. They were not exactly have apparitions, but the ghosts made themselves known by their energy; making sounds and such. They were not really aggressive or negative, but rather just the left over energy of the spirits. Although, like anything left alone long enough, they could progress on to a level 3 and beyond so it was best to find them quickly.

Level 3 apparitions could also be known as "interactive apparitions". They were classified at this level when the spirit seemed that it was aware of its surroundings. These spirits often moved small objects, tried to talk, and touch people, but, basically, their main purpose was to try and communicate with the people in the land of the living, trying to reach past its plane of existence.

The spirits tended to stay in a location that held emotional significance to them, and could be considered playful, mischievous, and bothersome. One could go insane while trying to talk or communicate with the ghosts at even this level, so Zoro stayed away from them. Too many painful memories were associated with level 3 ghosts for him.

Level 2's were commonly known to the mundane world as "poltergeists". These spirits were often mixed with different actions over time. They interact by moving, throwing, banging, and opening or closing objects. Some were even known to let loose blood curdling cries that could make one fear for the eternal state of their own soul.

Zoro had dealt with many apparations on this level. He had grown familiar with their increasing disturbances growing over time with more and more intensity, and strength. He supposed that it was a small blessing that they had to escalate and did not just go full out upon their materialization on this level. That would be an even bigger pain in the ass.

Poltergeists could be either seen or unseen, and were well known to be mischievous, or aggressive, and always negative. Level 2's fed off of the emotions of the people that they surround, eventually consuming even the person's own life. They were a nasty lot.

Now, the numero uno of the apparition world was the level 1. These bastards were known as "demonic" apparitions. Not much was really known about them, but they were usually inhuman in appearance and very powerful. These spirits were forceful with an almost super-human.

They could attack, cause injury, or appear and speak to people anytime and anyplace. They were known for luring humans into traps and sticky webs of deceit. They could appear in whatever form they please, offering to grant whatever wish is desired in order to lure in their victim and suck away their life force.

As Zoro took in the apparitions before him, he could see that they were at level 2. He barred his teeth and chanted: "Three-Sword Style Secret Technique: Three Thousand Worlds!"

He held the two kantana in his hands at an angle against each other and rotated them rapidly while running toward the advancing apparitions, slicing them apart. His spiritual energy sending a vibrating resonance through the blades. He grinned so widely his cheeks hurt, a small glimmer of insanity twinkling in his open eye.

There were few things he enjoyed more than his job. Ever since he was old enough to comprehend the idea of spirits, Zoro had devoted himself to extinguishing them. He planned on being the best, after all. Being the best meant there was no time for much else, it was all focus and training.

He heard laughing off to the left of him, and almost dropped the katana from his mouth. Mr. Prince was cackling like a maniac beside the tall theater owner. They were back to back, and holding their own against the surrounding apparitions, complimenting each other's moves with perfect time and rhythm.

"Dawn Serenade: Right-Handed Strike!" Brook cried, thrusting his sword forward. The action created a highly compressed blast of air with enough power to force its way through two apparitions, as if fired from a gun. It was rather shocking for Zoro at first, having not expected much talent from either of his companions.

"Yo ho ho!" he cheered, whilst skillfully moving out of the way, as Mr. Prince flipped over backward to avoid a slashed attack from the group of ghostly figures that were pressing rapidly toward him.

"Cook!" Zoro found himself shouting in warning, but the words were not heeded. The gray haired old man flashed him a look of pure, unfiltered madness before being consummed by the hoard.

Zoro felt his chest constrict quite unexpectedly, and before he knew it, he was rushing toward the spot of his fallen comrade.

"Diable Jambe: Flambage Shoot," came the calm voice of Mr. Prince.

Suddenly, the air was forced back from center of the ghostly hoard with an explosive magnitude. Zoro's eye widened at the sight. Mr. Prince was the source of the hot wind, he was spinning so quickly he was nothing but a blur. However, that wasn't the thing that impressed the swordsman the most. It was the cooks leg; it was on fire, like actual 'ow ow ow, put it out' fire.

The heat on his lower leg was of a temperature so high that it glowed a bright red. As he kicked out his leg in an attack, the contact for even a SECOND set the apparitions around him ablaze.

"Come on, shitheads!" the insane old geezer laughed, landing back beside Mr. Skeller, "I'm so ready!"

The green haired swordsman wondered for the hundredth time since he'd met the man: just who the hell was this Sanji Prince? The old geezer's spirit energy hadn't risen much higher than it had been before, but both of the odd men in front of him displayed unmatched power.

"Blue Walk!" Mr. Prince cackled, then fucking KICKED THE AIR? That was like a frog doing the front crawl!

Zoro was so distracted by watching the bastard cook showing off that he almost missed the menacing aura approaching behind him. But when his closed left eye started to open on its own accord, Zoro knew that the apparition at hand was a level 1.

The creature emitted a dark aura in curling tendrils that flower around its ghostly body. Its presence was physically heavy and would have any normal person in a state of panic. It was a feeling of dread that crept up the back and froze up the chest, bringing the lungs to a shuddering stop as fear filled the body.

Luckily, Zoro was no normal person. His closed eye - now open - took in the enemy's spirit energy. It was impressive, massive even, but Zoro was unafraid. He had trained his fear into calm focus. This was the sort of thing he lived for.

"Damn Orions!" the thing hissed, its voice crackling like the raging fire burning its way through building. Zoro could hear the sirens as the fire brigade made its much needed appearance out front, and could see in his mind's eye the men frantically working to put out the ever rising flames, all for little success.

Zoro had no time to waste, enemies meant decisive action; no hesitation. The weakening building still held people inside its burning belly. What the fuck was taking Ussop and Luffy so long?! Agh, there was no time to think of that, they would get it done as soon as they could. This wasn't their first rodeo.

Shaking his head slightly, the green haired man focused his attention on the demon apparition in front of him. It was grotesque, even for a ghost. It was dark velvety red, taking a humanoid form, but with the head of a bull. That is, if a bull had the sharp, dagger like teeth of a piranha, and eyes that were as opaque as they were blood red. Its deadly sharp taloned fingers shot out, slashing out at Zoro. The thing was letting out an ear shattering scream, its long black snake tongue darting back and forth between its needle thin teeth.

Zoro sneered at the beast as best he could around the katana in his mouth.  
"Che," he scoffed, "Demon Crow Hunt!"

Zoro launched himself into the air, twisting in to avoid the attack, then delivered his multiple slash technique. Tearing large steaming chunks from the creature that began to dissipate as soon as they left their original place. The wound caused the ghostly beast to howl in pain, and lash out in blind anger. The young swordsman dodged it once again.

"Bull Horns," he breathed, looking with his normally closed eye.  
He executed a multi-hit running attack with his two swords held out like a bull's horns. The attack hit home again, goring the apparition and wounding it further. Zoro could see the fading spiritual energy in the level 1 as more and more of its victims were taken out by Brook and Mr. Prince.

It was now or never, Zoro decided, and leapt into the air with the final attack of his three-sword style secret technique: Three Thousand Worlds.

It wasn't until the green haired man was about to deliver to finishing blow that the apparition uttered its last ground shaking shriek, its body rapidly turning to ash before his eyes.

"Damn you!" the thing screeched, clawing its way toward Zoro as if it was trying to execute one final desperate attack. "Damn you all to heeeellll..." its words faded as the rest of the body fell to pieces. And as the demon vanished, the remaining apparitions ceased to exist.

The last spirit, a woman, was pinned beneath Mr. Prince's boot.

'Thank you!" she sobbed, the highest key of joy filling her wavering voice. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you..." And she dissipated along with the rest of them. Mr. Prince smiled sadly as she was released, but there wasn't any time for sympathy and reflection; people were going to burn to death if they didn't hurry the fuck up.

"Cook! Mr. Skeller!" Zoro yelled across the room, "Get your skinny asses moving! There are still people in here!" He ran off to follow his own advice.

The stage was ablaze, the wood crackling and splitting in the heat. The curtain was glowing like the sun, the sight might have been beautiful if it didn't carry the threat of death and pain with it. Zoro squinted his eye against the heat and smoke, as other one had gone back to its usual closed state now that the dangerous level 1 had passed.

He could only just make out a figure struggling under the rigging of half the fallen curtain. The swordsman raced over, jumping through the flames. He used his spirit energy to dispel the worst of heat swelling around him. He knelt down and saw a green haired woman doubled over coughing. Without a second thought he scooped her up.

"Wait!" she shouted in a rasp, struggling in Zoro's grip, "My children! You've got to save them!"

Zoro scowled, "No ma'am, I can't-"

"PLEASE!" she begged, sobbing half from fear and half from the smoke.

The investigator groaned in annoyance, but quickly scanned the back of the stage. He found the two brats huddled under a heavy curtain and scooper them up, running out of the building and dropping them unceremoniously onto the ground, before he raced back inside.

He searched all the rooms he could find, some rooms more the once, and found only two more people, an old man in bad shape and a man who seemed to be alright. The swordsman swiftly brought the two outside.

"Oi!" he barked at a doctor through a coughing fit, indicating one of the people he'd brought outside, "Check the old man! He inhaled alot of smoke!"

A tall and lanky man hurried over to aid the man. "Thanks," he said to Zoro, distractedly, "Eustass-ya, hurry over here with the med bag! We gotta make sure we get all the smoke out of his lungs!" the raven haired doctor called to his red headed nurse.

Zoro left the people again, and headed back in to the building. He made his way to the back room he had originally entered through with Mr. Prince and Mr. Skeller. Or that's where he would have gone, if the fucking rooms would stop shifting on him! It took him a good ten minutes of running in random directions until he found the musician and the cook.

"Zoro-san!" Brook cheered, "There you are! Come, there is no saving it! We must depart!" Brook let out a wail of despair, throwing an arm over his face.

The three men then ran out of the blazing building through a side door Brook lead them to.

They were still trying to cough their lungs up when Luffy came crashing through the underbrush. "Alright, guys! Let's do this!" he shouted, and proceeded to make his way toward the fiery building.

"Luffy, you moron, it's over..." Mr. Prince wheezed. Shit, he sounded bad.

"Awww~! You guys are so stingy, leaving none for me!" the teen wailed, crossing his arms, and sticking out his lower lip.

Ussop came through the clearing as soon he heard Luffy's whining.

"It's over?" he breathed in relief, "Thank God- I mean, shucks! That's too bad! I had hoped to beat the crap out of some ghosts today!" he let out a shaky laugh.

Zoro leaned against a tree, trying to wipe some of the soot from his filthy face. "I don't even know why you are even in this profession, Long Nose," he chided with a cough and a sigh. "You guys sure took your fucking time to dig up those dusty bones and burn 'em!" he added, thoroughly annoyed.

"Well, excuse me! We had to dig up that damn grave by hand, and by 'we', I mean me! Luffy got distracted by a butterfly like two seconds after you all left! PLUS," he added, shoving a thumb to his own chest, "I had to go get some holy water."

"Don't lie, Ussop!" Luffy frowned, picking a booger from his nose, and flicking it onto the ground lazily. "You just got some stream water."

"BLESSED stream water, you idiot! My father, who was the minister of my home time church for twenty-five years, taught me how to holify water! It's a tradition passed down from my grand father, and my great grand father, and my great- great grandfather..." Ussop's rambling had gone on long enough for Zoro.

He pushed himself off of the tree. "Let's just get back to headquarters I'm tired, and I want booze."

Mr. Prince sighed. "I agree. Brook, come drinking with us tonight. My treat."

"Yo ho ho! Thanks, Sanji-san! That sounds fantastic!" The ex-theater owner said enthusiastically, ignoring the burning rage that had his livelihood crumbling to bits not too far away.

"Can I come too?" Luffy asked hopefully.

"NO!" Came the collective answer from both Zoro and the old geezer.

"Awww..."

ZSZSZSZSZSZSZSZS

Zoro was happily sitting at his bar stool, waiting for his fifth drink of the night, when he saw the old fart still talking enthusiastically to Brook, even after two hours of being at the pub. What the hell could be so important?

As subtly as he could, Zoro scooted closer to the men, knowing that they would shut up if they knew he was within ear shot.

"I have to confess, Brook, I had an ulterior motive for inviting you out to a drink..." Mr. Prince was saying.

An ulterior motive?

"Oh, Sanji," the other man chuckled, "If you have anything to ask, just ask. We've been friends for decades!"

Zoro saw Mr. Prince slip the envelope that Garp had given him earlier that day, out of the inside of his coat.

"It's about HIM," the Mr. Prince said so quietly that Zoro almost didn't catch it. He slid the folded envelope to the man across from him. "I was hoping you could give me any info?" His voice tipped up in question.

Zoro saw Brook open the envelope and stare at it hard before actually reading the contents of the paper inside. There was a pause as he read but when he was finished, he sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, asking, "Are you sure about this, Sanji-san?"

"Fucking positive," Mr. Prince nodded, "I'm gonna nail the bastard this time, Brook! I can feel it in my bones."

"Yo ho ho!" The other man laughed. "I would say 'I see', but I have no eyes!"

'No eyes?' Thought Zoro, brow pinching in confusion. Was he blind? He couldn't be! No blind person could fight like that, surely."

The green haired young man was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost missed Mr. Prince's response.

"Gah. You know how much I hate those fucking skull jokes, Brook!" he said to the other man, "Oh, by the way, did you get better medallions? Your disguise is looking much better than the last time I saw it~!"

"Yo ho ho! You noticed, huh?" Brook preened, patting the bottom of his fluffy hair with both hands.

"Noticed what?" Zoro now demanded, abruptly butting into the conversation, his curiosity getting the best of him.

The two old friends jumped in surprise at his sudden presence. Brook chuckled, but Mr. Prince blanched an unhealthy shade of morgue white.

"That I'm not a skeleton!" declared the musician, a proud smile stretching across his lips.

"Yeah, so?" frowned Zoro. That was rather obvious. Sure, the musician was skinny, but certainly not a skeleton by any stretch of the imagination. "Of course you're not," agreed the swordsman, not seeing any better response.

"Oh, but I am!" argued Brook, lacing together his spindly fingers.

Zoro looked at him like he man had grown two heads. What did the men take him for? An idiot? He'd seen a lot of strange things but he always knew what he was looking at and be was not seeing a skeleton right now.

"It's the truth, shit head, " said Mr. Prince, pulling out a cigarette from a silver case, and lighting it up. He blew out a lazy trendle of smoke before he spoke again. "It's true. Brook is a bonafide, walking, talking, eating, breathing skeleton. I'm not sure how any of those things are possible either but they are. Go on, show him, Brook,"

And them the most amazing thing happened before Zoro's eyes: Brook Skeller took off his glasses and instead of two eyes, two empty sockets stared back at him, and instead of the face of Brook Skeller, it was a bone white, very SKELETAL face.

"Believe me now, Mr. Zoro?" the skull asked, it's lip less mouth grinning at him.

All Zoro could do was stare. Sweet Jesus... It was a REAL skeleton! That was new. Fuck, want the hell else did he not know about out there?

"Are there any MORE surprises?" He muttered in disbelief more to himself than to the others.

Mr. Prince smirked around his cigarette, and leaned back in his chair as h crossed one long leg over the other. "What would you do if I told ya I was pregnant?"

Zoro blanched. Why was he always stuck with the perverts, wimps, and freaks of this planet? Had he done something to deserve this kind of punishment, or did somebody up there just really hate him...


End file.
